Writing a Love Story
by RandomDalmatian326
Summary: Loner Rachel Roth has a secret alter-ego: Raven, one of the most successful writers of our time. But what happens when a reviewer wants her to write a love story, but she has no experience? And what happens when Garfield shows up at her bookshop with her gloves? Will Rachel get her love story, or much more? Will her secret be revealed? And Garfield's? Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1: Winter's Secret

**Well, hello there fanfiction! Welcome to my first Teen Titans fic! How happy I am to be here, and… You know what? No one cares. On with the story. Thanks to all who follow my work, and if you're new to me, hello! Welcome to a story where plot is so very intertwined, characters are sarcastic, and lots of darkness! Enjoy! I also have lots of fluffy moments. I OWN NOTHING. Only my plot… Maybe something else will come up later that I own. But not right now. Please don't post my stories on other sites without my permission! Thank you. **

**Chapter One: Winter's Secret **

Rachel Roth sat knees to her chest, in a comfy yet stable rolling chair. It was black, like so much of her room; and the only thing that wasn't dark at this time of night was the glow from her violet laptop, that illuminated half of her bedroom. The desk in her room that her laptop was sitting on was a good work desk, but it didn't really have that much space when she actually wanted to do several things for one project.

Her skin was rough from the goosebumps she had- the fan above her head was going full blast. But that's the way she liked it, anyway. She felt like she could sleep best when it was cold in her room. And even when she was cold, she never complained, and never got up to get a blanket. She simply sat, her right index finger clicking on the down arrow key, to go down the page.

She looked at the glowing screen, not really seeing the keyboard- but she didn't really need to. She had memorized the keyboard already. Her laptop was her most prized possession- she knew its every nook, cranny, and kink.

Stifling a yawn, she wondered what time it was. After rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, she pinpointed the right corner of her laptop, and found it was four thirty in the morning. _Had she been awake that long? _

She paused, remembering how she couldn't sleep at midnight, and had shuffled out of her cold, yet fresh cotton sheets and had burrowed in the chair and flipped her laptop open.

The HP glowed to life, and after clicking in the middle of the screen, and typing her password, _Raven, _she had opened up her website.

Well, it wasn't technically _hers. _It belonged to her alter-ego, Raven: _the Raven. _Her trilogy had sold billions and had a fandom of millions across the world. The _Into the Dark _series had a net worth of trillions, the merchandise, the movies soon to be coming out…

Rachel sighed. And yet, no one in the entire world knew _she _had written the books. To everyone else, she was _Rachel Roth, _owner of the bookstore _The Dark Alley. _She wasn't _Raven: _just Rachel.

Just trying to get by with her loyal fans in her bookstore, inherited from her mother. Not a trillionaire.

Every time she would be asked to an interview, every time she had to make an appearance, she wore a dark indigo cloak to cover her eyes and body, and matching indigo boots. She even wore a matching indigo dress under the cloak. At first, it was to gain publicity, and yet it had stuck- became a routine. No one knew who she was. When they tried to follow her, she would go into a crowd and disappear.

No one had caught her yet.

No one would know. No one would _ever _know.

Her father was still out there somewhere, and she didn't want him to _find _her, or anything like that. It was better off if he thought she was dead. The bookstore was a secret, the one Arella, her mother, took to the grave.

And so would she.

Above the bookstore was her apartment.

It was small, like a condo. 600 square feet was all it was.

The floor plan was a living room as you walked in, peeking into the kitchen through the bar, a small bathroom with a shower/bath, and one bedroom. It even had a little veranda where she could sit with her plotted plants and just feel the wind and smell autumn, or summer, or spring, or whatever season it was.

In the beginning, when she was horribly poor, the apartment was a god-send. And now, it was just over the bookstore. It was convenient. It was routine.

Her father had drunk all their money away, and it was a secret that Rachel even survived the arson of the mansion anyway… One she kept with her life. She faked her own…

She shook her head. No, she wouldn't think of her father or her past. It was gone, lost to the wind.

She blew her dark hair, almost blue bangs out of her face. It was time to read the forums. She always kept watch about what people were saying about her books, and hungry for any suggestions.

She browsed a little in the first book's forums, _The Sorceress. _Her first book was about a sorceress and empath named Raven who was raised on the planet Azarath. Told in flashback, most of the story focused on the need to control her emotions, and the Spartan ways of training her. The loneliness, the pain, the hidden emotions… _That _she had taken out of real life. In a way, Raven was her, and at the same time, they were clearly different. Raven was more courageous than she could ever hope to be. Raven was stronger, more powerful, and wiser. Yet, she always had the weight that she was _to destroy the world and all the surrounding universes. _Rachel never had that weight, and never wished it upon herself.

The first book had left off right before she was to meet Trigon, her father, lord of Darkness and the Underworld- to plead and fight for her life.

The forum was filled with praise that made her heart swell up, and there were several comments from two people, whom she regularly chatted with who were _Malquior _and _Jinx_. They both loved her work, and praised it for its attitude towards the main character, and the genuine darkness that happened in it.

With a smile, she scrolled over to the second book, _her second book: Battling the Magic Within._ Its beginning focused on the Battle with Trigon, which Raven ultimately loses. Heartbroken and defeated, Raven flees to Earth and leaves everything behind.

Alone and unwanted, Raven tries to live as a human.

Her gray skin and cold nature make it hard to live as a human, so she constantly endures the jokes, and during the night she helps those in need.

While her 17th birthday nears, she struggles to maintain control over her powers, and her emotions. She's raw and alone, and though physically and mentally strong, emotionally weak.

Kind of like she is now… But Rachel didn't dwell on that thought. She wouldn't think of herself now.

Raven overhears someone screaming, and wondering what is going on, turns herself invisible like so many other nights. She levitates toward the dark alley.

What she sees hypnotizes her. She sees a woman, in her early twenties, about to get raped by three men with guns. Before she can whisper her mantra, _Azarath Metrion Zinthos, _a boy appears. At first, she holds her fire, trying to understand the situation. In an instant, the boy turns into a lion and brutally injures the men, saving the girl.

As Raven watches the scene unfold, she says nothing, and as she makes sure the girl leaves unharmed, the changeling shouts to her. "I know you're there!"

Still levitating, Raven is confused and frightened that someone can sense her, and stays invisible.

The changeling does nothing but stare at her, eyes going through her soul. Raven doesn't know what to feel, and in an emotional tizzy, causes one of the nearby light posts to bend.

As the changeling turns his head, Raven escapes. It is not known who the boy is.

As soon as Raven leaves the changeling, she begins to hear her evil conscience whisper to her.

The book's halfway mark is as she falls to the concrete, engaged in a metal battle.

Trying to contain her evil self, Raven struggles as she constantly loses, the evil part of her throwing all her past and present flaws at her. She picks at Raven's insecurities, the deep ones she tried to hide, how she never formed a relationship with her mother though she yearned so much for one, how she has no one, how she's invisible…

As Raven gets angrier and angrier, the place in her mind is being torn apart by her mere will. Though everything behind her is a disaster and tornadoes and hurricanes and floods rip apart her mind, her evil self doesn't flinch- doesn't even bat an eye.

And she says, "_Raven, no matter how much you try, you cannot destroy me. You cannot destroy yourself." _

Raven loses control as she realizes that she, her evil self, is part of her, and as she continues to be verbally beat, her evil self repeats, "_You are invisible, Raven. No matter what importance anyone has attached unto you, you are nothing. No one cares for you. No one knows you're even alive. You don't exist anywhere."_

And something in Raven just completely snaps. She remembers the changeling, who she had not known at all, and how he sensed her presence when it would be otherwise impossible.

"_I exist!" _Raven shouts, half-trying to convince herself. _"I am alive!" _

Her powers become stronger, and back under her control. With those words, she reinforces her way of living and her self-esteem.

With an _"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!" _She destroys her evil self, causing her to break apart and shatter. But before she does, as she cracks, she simply smiles. _"Good, Raven. Good. But this isn't over- not yet."_

As she crumbles, Raven stands tall.

And suddenly she's being summoned in the real world.

With a flip of her cape, she hears, "_Hey, are you awake?"_

And that was where the second book ended.

Her third book, _Ending All Magic, _started where she had left off. She awakes with the changeling looking down at her, and she immediately rolls and aims her hands to him. Her soul self is ready to jump into objects to defend her, and she is on full alert.

As she realizes there are others in the room, and senses their emotions are of concern, not malicious intent, she lowers her hands. As she lowers her hands, the changeling begins to tell of her being passed out on the concrete, and how she smelt the same, and continues to babble on as Raven inspects each of the others with her powers.

After blinking, she turns around. "Thank you for being concerned. But I have to go."

The changeling grabs her hand and gives her a sense of emotions she can't grasp. He decides to introduce her to his team: Cyborg, the human machine; Robin, the strategist, leader, and martial artist; Starfire, the alien Amazon with a kind heart; Kid Flash, the speedster; and Wonder Girl.

Within a year, Raven drops most of her defenses. She doesn't tell the team- which refer to themselves as _Teen Titans, _about the prophecy of her 18th birthday.

The changeling, Beast Boy, often tries to make her laugh and open up, but Raven will have none of it.

The fans always clamored that Beast Boy and Raven should be together.

As her 18th birthday nears, she has dreams about her evil self rebuilding itself. And two nights before her birthday and after another horrible dream, she calls the Titans together to tell them about the prophecy.

After initial feelings of hurt, the Titans decide to band together and help Raven.

Raven hides the tattoos of red appearing on her skin, as not to worry them.

As the tattoos get more plentiful, Raven knows the time is shortening.

And the rest is the detailed fight with Trigon, for the last time.

Most of the battle is the Titans losing, and Raven struggling with her father. As it becomes apparent that her friends cannot survive much longer… Her soul-self reaches out to Trigon and sends him to another dimension.

Putting her mother as a guard, and realizing she saved everyone, Raven goes back and is welcomed by the Titans once again.

As they put together a party, Raven insists she will only be gone for just a minute, to get something.

And a whisper is heard, _"Azarath, Metrion, Zinthos!"_

And Raven disappears.

That's where her trilogy ended.

And as Rachel read the comments, a new one had been posted.

**Malquior **3:24 AM

_**My dearest Raven,**_

_**I have once again read your fascinating trilogy, and I have come to notice something. While your trilogy focuses on learning to fight against your inner nature, and how you can prevail when others tell you that you are to fail, your books are missing something.**_

_**Raven is a character that is constantly alone, and while it is normal to have defenses with new people, I don't feel her warmth… No, rather, I don't feel the **_**others' warmth. **_**Their friendship is superficial and I do not feel as strongly when Raven is with them than when she is alone. I find this hard to explain, but my emotional response to them is not as deep as it is with Raven. Frankly, though I enjoy them, their characters are too shoddy and not written quite well.**_

_**In the end, I think you should explore and expand your writing to another area. How about a love story? It would be good practice to delve into feelings of someone else rather than the main character. I'll look forward to it.**_

Rachel blinked in disbelief. Sure, Malquior was prone to constructive criticism, but there was a phrase that scared her. _How about a love story? _

_How about a love story?_

_How about a love story?_

_How about a love story?_

The question just didn't seem to register in her mind, as she rubbed her eyes again. Had she read that right?

She read his response again, scanning to that particular paragraph. Yes, she had read that right. Yes, he had just suggested a _love _story.

What was wrong with that?

Well, other than _everything imaginable, like how it wasn't her genre, and how could he suggest that, _it was that **Rachel Roth had always been alone. She didn't have friends, so she didn't know what they felt like, talked like, or anything. She had been a loner and no one seemed interested enough to talk to her. **_**Much like Raven, Rachel was a loner, and didn't even know what having friends, not to mention love, even felt like. **_

_**How in the hell was she supposed to write about something she's never experienced?!  
**_

Sure, she could write what Fanfiction called a "lemon," but… Actual feelings? Build-up? What the hell went on in someone's head when they loved someone else? What was the difference between love and like, anyway?

Ugh.

Guys were an unknown matter, a dark forest, to her. Sure, she could understand the female psyche, but God! Most women turned into inconsiderate narcissists when it came to dating! The way they paid so much attention to a wisp of their hair, how they constantly put on makeup, how they'd dump their friends and agreements last minute for their boyfriends… And kissing? Don't even start with _that._ She had seen couples walking by her bookshop, eating each other's faces off with their lips. How could you do that while walking?

Disgusting.

And touching? Touching was a horrible no-no. How can you let someone get that close to you? How does that not make you feel restrained?

Sure, Rachel had seen romantic comedies. She could write one! But girls were always blabbering on about how guys made them feel "safe and protected" or whatever. She didn't get it.

She never really wanted to.

Not until Malquior's suggestion. He wanted her to improve. He was waiting for a romance novel.

Characters! She had to think of characters! Would she stick with Raven? Pin her up with Beast Boy?

No, no, no! Something about Raven was sacred. Should she push Starfire and Robin together?

She didn't know.

What was she to do?! She glanced at the clock again, only to read it was five.

Leaning back in her chair, she decided to get some sleep before school tomorrow. Another brilliant day before winter break.

A week before finals.

Rachel told herself she had to get it together by tomorrow… Or, she realized, by the end of today.

She dragged her feet to her bed and flopped down, face-first, thanking every god she could think of that her first and only class of the next day started at twelve.

She woke up after about five hours, slugged out of bed and stripped for her morning shower. Rachel didn't really look at her body much anymore- it wasn't as if she _avoided _the mirror. She just didn't, well, _look. _After letting it warm up and sticking her hand in to check, she moved the curtain, stepped first, letting her red pedicure (that she obviously did herself last night, but it wasn't too shabby) get wet.

After the initial shiver it gave the rest of her body, she stepped completely in.

It wasn't about the actual act of _cleansing. _Not yet. At first, she just let the water wash over her, warming her body and feeling as the stress were to melt away…

The shower was a period of thought. Writers always said how they thought up their best ideas in the shower, doing laundry, their daily run… Mundane tasks that brought stories into their heads.

So, while Rachel stood there, in the beautiful humidity in the storm as she heard the bathroom fan roaring above, she started to think.

_A love story. _

She remembered when she first started out, and how she always wanted to write one. But every time she tried, they were shallow, not enough feelings, and not real enough characters.

Every hour, more papers and outlines in the wastebasket.

Every minute, another cross-out, another hit of the backspace button.

Tapping the pencil against her dining room table, her makeshift work desk, trying to think of something, anything.

Her desk full of outlines on notebook paper, ripped, torn, crossed-out…

Thrown basketball style into the wastebasket.

Throwing the pencil into the trashcan.

Getting up and retrieving the pencil, trying in vain to plot out something.

Getting an idea and realizing it's useless.

Throwing in the towel, closing the laptop, and dropping the remaining papers in the trashcan as she again gave up, going back to her room to work on _Raven's trilogy._

The memories chilled her, and she decided to let it go for awhile. The best ideas came when you least expected them to. You had to not think of them. You had to let them come to you.

Too bad that was all Rachel could think about as she grabbed her citrus shampoo, and got some orange gloop into her hands.

She rubbed her hands together, and realizing her hair was already wet, raised her hands to her scalp and began massaging the gloop into her dark hair.

She had to come up with something soon.

_No, Rachel. Stop. Think about something else. Classes. Finals._

But her mind kept drifting to the love story, her memories surrounding trying to write one, and the incapability she felt because she had no experience.

_Azar, Rachel. Jeez. You can do this. You just have to think of something soon… Something soon and good. But what?_

She exhaled loudly as she had no idea what.

She backed up a bit to get the water in her hair, and kneaded her fingers through her hair, rinsing it out.

She grabbed the conditioner, a vanilla and strawberry extract, and did the same, except when she was done spreading it through her hair, she took the comb she kept in the shower and brushed it.

_Love story, love story…_

-x-

After her shower, and after a good ten minutes of blow drying, Rachel threw on some dark jeans, brown riding (looking) boots with three gold buckles down the side, a light graphic-tee (one of the limited edition ones received with her first book. It had Raven's spirit self's bird and above it was the word _Raven _in oldie red type) and a cashmere crème sweater with a brown belt over her belly, and a matching crème knit hat with a little ball hanging off it. With a large, inspector-gadget like black button down jacket and putting her laptop in an old, vintage leather bag (one inherited from her mother), she set out to the university. She locked the door of her apartment, went down the stairs, went past the bookshelves, and the tables, and went out the door as it punctuated her leaving with a ringing of the bell. She checked to make sure the door was locked, and it was.

By now, it was already 11.

"_What a fantastic day it's going to be,"_ Rachel muttered to herself.

As she reached into her pockets for her black leather gloves, she cursed herself for not putting them on sooner.

As she made her way down the bustling street, she heard the beautiful sounds of the morning: drivers cursing at each other for cutting them off, daily squabbling between the grocer and the stay-at-home mom, the screams of children not wanting to go to daycare and parents grumbling about traffic…

She breathed loudly, but even that was still unheard. She watched her body puff up white smoke, and imagined herself to be a dragon.

With two more puffs, she was the almighty dragon of the _Dark Alley. _

She giggled to herself, feeling a bit silly, but still enjoying her fantasy.

And that's when she neared the bakery, the place she got a fresh chocolate-chip muffin and some black tea.

She smelt the aroma of fresh bread, and could barely contain her stomach from grumbling. With a tug to the door, she opened it and was greeted with a _ding! _

The bakery, at this hour, was usually light traffic. It was simply a row on both sides of cookies and breads and delicious treats, guiding one to the tables at the back.

As she directed herself towards the back, the door to the baking area opened and slammed.

"Rachel! Good to see you!" A fat, older woman greeted. She was wearing a baker's hat and white apron, but she was covered in flour and sugar and smelled of freshly baked cookies.

"Good morning, Gilda." Rachel greeted, taking her gloves off.

"The usual?" The woman asked, already roaming to the row with the muffins, and already boiling the water.

"Yes please."

After grabbing the muffin with plastic thongs and putting it on a paper plate, Gilda again sauntered to the back and put it on Rachel's table.

She knew Rachel wasn't much of a talker, so she simply left the chocolate chip muffin and went in the baking area after she heard the tea kettle shriek.

Rachel carefully took off her gloves and began to eat. Sure, it wasn't the most _nutritional _breakfast God gave to man, but it was delicious.

Rachel always savored the flavors in the muffin- the dough, so fluffy at the top, hid a beautiful secret of chocolate chips and it didn't have too many to overflow, or too little to under appreciate the muffin. It was always the exact amount, and it was baked with love.

Rachel could always taste it.

And that's why she loved this place.

After eating the muffin, she waited, as almost instantaneously, the woman came back with her tea in a Starbucks-like cup.

She thanked the woman, and the woman again moved toward the front, grabbing another muffin, put it in a bag, and Rachel reached the counter for the check.

As she paid, Rachel realized that they had this act down to a second.

It was quite amazing what routine could do. Making sure her wallet was secure and her bag was closed, she began to walk down the aisle of goods.

They said their goodbyes, sent their good wishes, and out of routine, Gilda said, "I know something special will happen today. Look out for it, Rachel."

With a raise of her right eyebrow, Rachel responded, "I will."

And as she exited the shop with another _ding! _She bumped into a guy.

About a head taller than her, she looks up to say her apologies.

Instead, she just stares, taking him in. A greenish tint to his hair, a slightly muscular, but not disgustingly so, body, boots, and a black, but longer, matching jacket with hers and dark pants.

She could admit, silently to herself, that he was just a tad bit attractive.

After a silence of two seconds, she says a mumbled, "Sorry."

And her head down, she speed walked down the street, glad that her drink had a top to it.

But what she didn't hear was Gilda, "Hey! You left your gloves!"

And what she didn't see was the guy look at her back, in total curiosity, and a little bit of awe.

**And, that's it! Chapter One! Whoo-hoo! Yay for new story. What do you guys think? Good? Meh? Bad? Maybe. Review and tell me what you think! **


	2. Chapter 2: Second Meeting

**I'm so glad my first chapter was received so very nicely! Thanks to the WONDERFUL REVIEWERS (HINT HINT GUYS), **NOT TO MENTION ALL YOU SILENT REVIEWERS OUT THERE** (Cough, Review! Cough). The favorite-ers, the followers, the alert-ers, the readers… Thank you so much. Also, please pay attention to how different people describe others in different ways. Anyway, don't own anything. **

**Chapter Two: Second Meeting**

The guy watched as Rachel, or because he didn't know her name referred to her in his mind as "Bouncy Hat Hot Girl," hurried down the block until her back had been covered by the people who were graining past to work.

The bakery woman, an overweight lioness in probably her 50's, jiggled to the door an absolute mess. With white all over the place (but miraculously not on the black leather gloves that were in her sharp hands), and a slightly exasperated expression, she called with a voice projected by her mere fat: "Rachel! You forgot your…"

As she looked past him, she realized that Rachel was gone.

"That girl…" She whispered, more like a loud thought that she had tried to whisper, "So very disorganized sometimes. I wonder if it's another book…"

As she loudly muttered to herself, about to close the door, the guy decided that he would use this as an opportunity to meet "Bouncy Hat Hot Girl."

He lunged silently to the door like a lion, catching it with his foot before it closed. As the older lioness turned to see who had stopped the door, he managed one of his smiles- a big, toothy grin that _easily _charmed the ladies, and asked, "Ma'am?"

The woman raised an eyebrow, as if to say, "_That won't work on me,"_ but realized he was eyeing the gloves… A twinkle appeared in her eyes as a smirk formed to her face.

Oh _yes. This was going to be a delicious development._

Blinking her eyes, she asked to what she already knew the answer to, "Would you like to return these to her?"

As the guy eagerly nodded his head, her mind was already calculating the possibilities. _Not a bad body, Nice smile, an obvious gentleman… Ooh, what a boyfriend prospect!_

Sure, just because Rachel didn't talk much didn't mean that she _never _talked. Every now and then, she would slip, telling Gilda about trying to write books, not having a boyfriend (or many friends), no mother figure… And sometimes asked for advice.

So it was only natural that Gilda thought of her as a daughter.

Which meant that she needed a boyfriend.

Which meant, coincidentally, that this guy had to return the gloves to her, which could lead to…

Gilda could already hear the marriage bells.

"Oh, that's great! She has a bookshop down the block; it's called the _Dark Alley. _People usually miss it, because it's small, but it's an adorable little bookshop. She'll be open at 1… Would you like some pastries while you wait?"

Gilda didn't even wait for an answer; she just shoved the gloves in his hands and pushed him inside.

"What was your name again, boy?"

The boy smiled. "Garfield. Garfield Mark Logan, ma'am."

-x-

Rachel Roth, now a block away, stopped at the circle sign with a 69 on it. In black spray paint, it had some _other _details, but Rachel didn't even look or study the immature adolescent minded picture.

Plus, she had to see the stupid thing every day. It was her regular bus stop, and every time the city tried to clean up the sign, it just managed to be renewed the very next morning.

And so, the stupid _69 _graffiti remained.

As she waited for the big grey turd to sputter down the street in a cloud of smoke, Rachel pondered why the world always felt so damn _grey. _So damn boring all the time.

She recalled how Raven felt the same way- she guessed it was unintentional, but… The similarity was still there.

And that bugged her a great deal. Psychologically, it meant that… She was settling into a routine, a boring routine where life no longer had meaning.

Where there was no one of interest.

Oh god, she was becoming… No, she already _was…_

Raven.

Raven, though part of herself, haunted her. She always had thought of herself as more… Human, more feeling. But, weren't they the same?

The loneliness, the emptiness… The utter, raw feeling of _alone._

_She was all alone._

And those three years, all those years to survive by herself, no money, no support, the only thing was her bookshop and books to keep her sane…

What did she have now? A lot of money and no one to share it with: a bookshop which was worth less than her boots.

The writing of the _Into the Dark _had her retreating into her mind: so often that she didn't realize she had no one to share her ideas with, discuss plot holes... No one to cheer her on, only silence.

Silence, and the teasing of her classmates.

Silence: every time she opened the door, every time she ate dinner, every time she bathed, every time she cleaned, the only thing that had drowned out the silence was the thoughts of her ideas for books and the whirs of her laptop cooler.

She was so engrossed, so concentrated, in her thoughts that she hadn't cared. She hadn't cared. She was typing all the time, glad that she wasn't bothered. She was in her own little world. But when she finished writing, it was disappointing. She couldn't be engrossed in that world anymore. There weren't any distractions. Her thoughts always strayed to the empty apartment and empty chair across from her every time she ate.

But, she had the bookshop.

And what? A romance novel in the "works" that only beat up her self-esteem and reminded her how she was incapable of feeling human emotions?

Oh god, was she even capable of feeling love anymore?

Was she so inhuman that she couldn't relate to others?

Would she end up alone?

Would she _die_ alone?

What was to become of her?

Would she become a shell like Raven? Was she already at that point? As she searched her mind, Rachel realized she didn't know.

She realized she _didn't know the answer. _

She didn't understand herself anymore. Other than running the bookshop, what did she have to live for, anyway? Raven had the Titans, but who did she have? _What _did she have?

She shut her eyes and tried to keep the tears from flowing. The books had given her _purpose. _They had given _meaning _to her life.

Even if it was recounting someone else's life, she had a job.

_A job to do._

She opened her eyes as she realized, she still did.

The romance novel.

Her hardest challenge yet.

It would give meaning to her life for just a bit longer.

And then what?

But Rachel's thoughts were interrupted as the greyhound farted, bounced down the street and rolled down towards her.

-x-

After Rachel scanned her _Quick Card, _she looked for two empty seats in the back.

Usually, she just sat there for the 20-30 minute ride and let her mind wander.

But not today. She had to think, think, think.

As she looked past the usual other passengers, there were two people she had never seen before.

It wasn't as though she never saw new people on the bus- that happened sometimes, but not much- but it was that people who didn't ride the bus were usually rich. And the rich thought buses (or subways) were too dirty.

As she made her way towards the back, and sat down at the window, she couldn't help but be absorbed by the couple's actions that sat just two rows, on the right side, in front of her.

It was a fairly good-looking couple: a girl with long, red hair and green eyes, with a good body and tan, and a boy- a boy with black hair and sunglasses. Rachel couldn't really see what they were wearing from here, but what she caught when she had walked by was a purple halter top and skirt with matching boots from the girl, and jeans and a black shirt and jacket from the guy. One would think that at first they were no different than others, but since Rachel herself was a fan of subtle richness, she knew the signs.

Like the charm bracelet on the girl's hand that was sterling silver, the designer belt the boy had, and the Oakley sunglasses he wore… Little details that you could look over once, and people could not see- but she did.

It was a wonder why they were riding the bus at all. But as Rachel studied their interactions, the girl never seemed to be so excited in her life.

Rachel smirked as she realized exactly what this boring bus was- an exciting adventure for the little rich girl. The boy looked as if he wasn't that amused.

At first, it seemed as if he was mildly annoyed by her pointing out the window, and asking questions. But as Rachel looked closer, there was a subtle smile on his face, as if he enjoyed the attention he seemed to be tenderly explaining things to her.

She would have thought he was treating her like a small child, but she remembered how when she walked by, he leaned closer when she was talking to him and was holding the hand that wasn't gesturing out the window. When the bus had stopped for her, she even remembered how his hand went protectively around her waist to keep her from lurching forward.

As the girl again pointed to something outside, Rachel couldn't help but be distracted from her ideas. She studied the other bus members, the regulars, and went through the checklist of the day.

Ms. Oreille, the old woman towards the front always waved to her when she got on. She was an old woman that usually rode the bus everywhere and Rachel often saw her reading the latest, hottest book or something interesting like _The Ways of Judo, _or _How to Make a Greek Feast, The History of Rome, Studying Biochemistry, Learning the Art of Mandarin, Keeping your Herbs Happy, The Joy of Not Working, Videogaming for Adults, _and many other books that brought Rachel to be able to talk to her. They talked a lot, except when she was sitting with someone else, like the old man who constantly had been trying to get her attention for a year now, or someone whose interests where piqued with the book she was currently reading. She was extremely cultured and had traveled everywhere. In her youth, she had been a model, and Rachel often discussed how models were treated and how they had to eat- but today she was sitting with an African-American boy who was talking about Atlantis with her.

Then, there was Xavier Redd, towards the middle, on the left side. They called him X, and he was the playboy extraordinaire. Every day he had a different girl at his hips, and was grossly eating her face off. This time, she was blonde and had blue eyes and blonde hair. She had goggles on her head, yellow shorts, and a black tee. It seemed X was trying to rid her of her clothes on a bus that had some unlucky observers.

Stifling a gag, Rachel looked backward.

There was always a short little boy who went to the university with her, who was rumored to be a genius. He always kept to himself at the right back, and was always working on some sort of Gizmo.

Then there was a particularly annoying girl named Kitten on the bus. She always sat behind the driver, and was constantly talking (loudly) on the phone. She was usually complaining about her nails, or how her daddy needed to buy her something else, or the like. Today she was talking about a guy named Fang, complaining about how he had refused her offer to be in a relationship with her.

Then, towards the middle in the left, was a man with brown hair who was always arranging pictures. He was always mumbling about how to impress someone named "Mary Jane" and how his boss was always underpaying him, and how he was almost late for a deadline.

As the next stop approached, and the girl X had been playing with put on her coat and smoothed her hair, she sent him a kiss.

After she had gotten off and the bus had farted again, X made his way to the back.

_Oh god, please pass me. Please, oh please…_

But Rachel was not that lucky.

"Hey Rachel," He slurred, drunk before noon.

"X." Rachel didn't even greet him, she just acknowledged his presence. Her hand griped onto her bag until her knuckles turned white. She had never taken it off or left it on the seat.

He swayed as the bus did, and fell into the row in front of her.

"So, Rach. You think about my offer?"

_If you mean the stupidity that sputtered out of your mouth on Friday, then the answer is no, you big douche._

"If you mean what you asked Friday, I decline." Rachel had censored her mouth for the public. And in the normal world, it wasn't as appreciated as the showbiz one. Plus, being rude in the real world to people who deserved it gave satisfaction. Her voice was low, not drawing attention from the other passengers. They were having a normal conversation and everybody was doing the usual.

"Decline?" He swayed in the seat as he poked his head over the seat. "Is that a fancy way of saying no?"

_No, you stupid asshole. It means no in the most polite way of addressing pricks like you._

"Yeah, that's about right."

"So, you won't go with me?" He again slurred his words and tried to touch Rachel's hair, but his hand didn't go far enough. His head got closer to hers, as if trying to see her better.

As he tried to touch her hair, Rachel didn't move a muscle. He seemed curious as to why he wasn't touching her, and tried again, but couldn't.

"Xavier. Please stop before I punch you." Rachel spit out her threat like poison. She had stopped with the politeness. He didn't deserve it.

"Punch me? You?" Instead of touching her hair, his hand fell to her legs.

"Xavier, I'm giving you one second…" She hissed. She was beginning to draw attention, and she knew it. But she was _not _going to be molested on the _fucking bus. _The boy genius looked up from his work, screwdriver in hand and his eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as to what was happening.

His hand inched up her thigh, smirking. He wasn't taking her seriously.

"Xavier!" She hissed.

His hand went farther, but before it could go past the middle of her thigh, she threw his hand off and punched him in the face.

"GET OFF ME!" She screamed as she tugged on the cable, signaling she had to get off. The bus was at a stoplight, and opened the door.

She hurried away with all eyes on her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the boy genius looking at her with whatever he was tinkering with in his hand, and his mouth was gaping like a fish out of water.

As she walked past the couple, the girl seemed to be very mad and the boy's eyebrows were crunched up.

The man, after cursing about his pictures being out of order as the bus stopped, looked up and narrowed his eyes as he looked past her.

Mrs. Oreille stopped chatting with the boy, and looked as if she would try some of her newly learned judo moves.

But Rachel didn't care. She wanted off the bus. She was never going to take the _69 _again. Ever. She would walk a block more and take the _79. _

As she thought about how they had passed the _79 _route before her stop, she cursed. _Fantastic, _she thought to herself. _Absolutely fantastic. _

She was going to have to walk to school today.

_Whatever, at least it could've been worse._

And that is when it started to snow.

_Great, what is this, a movie? _

-x-

As Rachel held on to her piping hot tea and got her muffin out of her bag, she decided it wasn't as bad as it could have been. It could have been worse. It could have decided to become a blizzard when she walked. Instead, it was just a tinkle of snow.

She pulled out a black scarf she had poking out of her bag, juggling the muffin and tea in one hand.

She wrapped it around herself, because the tingles of the snow and the shivers were already trying to take over her body. With her hands full of warm things, she didn't even notice the absence of her gloves.

She began walking; realizing she only had 10 or so minutes left to walk.

In her right hand, she cupped her tea and its hot container: in the left, the bag. As she took a sip, she realized it hadn't burned her tongue as she would have expected it to. It had cooled so that it was hot as it washed her mouth and warmed her insides, but it was still hot enough that if she gulped it down, it would burn her throat.

As usual, she took itty-bitty sips of the tea. It warmed her body temperature and her hands, but most of all her stomach. Her mother had always told her to warm her stomach, and everything else would be warm too.

Warmth spread like that.

She sighed, as she only had memories like that.

A cold shiver passed through her body as a silent, piercing wind chilled her to the bone.

It was the reminder: she could practically hear the wind whispering, _the novel, the novel…_

If she _was _going to write it, she might as well think of a plot.

And characters.

And an environment.

And a back-story.

Why had it seemed so much easier the first time?

Raven had just come to her, invading her thoughts with her environment, her agony, her silence.

And yet, she couldn't feel for a girl in love.

Hopeless.

So what if she started like that?

She blinked, as she realized it was a good idea.

_A girl filled with loneliness meets a man. _

Slowly opens up.

But isn't that too cliché? Hadn't that been done before?

She had to dig deeper, darker- even more _human._

_A girl about to commit suicide meets a man._

No… It didn't seem right.

_A girl believes that she is unlovable. Spends her time in loneliness. _

Good, good. That's a good start.

Loneliness was a big subject where Rachel could **most definitely **expand on.

As she took another sip of her tea, she realized she only had about five more minutes to go.

_All right, mighty Raven. Think. How would she open up?_

But as Rachel pondered with her alter-ego, now a part of her writing genius, she realized she didn't know.

_Let the answer come to you._

But now she had become obsessed. She had a problem, and now she had to solve it.

She wasn't going to be able to listen to the lecture today, and she knew it.

She'd be too busy making graphs or situations, or environment and plot layers.

Nothing productive would get done today.

She puffed one more breath of air out of her mouth, trying to be the dragon again, trying to be full of confidence.

But she knew she wasn't going to return there just yet.

-x-

After ignoring the two-hour lecture, and her laptop full of charts and her notebook filled with sketches of plot and issues, she took the yellow line, two blocks from her school, back home.

As it stopped about a block from her flat, she took the opportunity to again walk.

In the cold again, she realized that she had forgotten her gloves somewhere, and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to search.

Finding nothing in her bag, she realized that she must've left them somewhere.

_Whatever. I'll find them tomorrow._

Noticing it was almost one, she hurried and opened up shop as she unlocked the door, shoved her school bag under the check-out table, flipped the sign to say, "_Yes, We're Open!"_ and pulled the chair and began to read _Managing Your Emotions._

She had been stuck on it for awhile, and she didn't pay attention as the bell rang.

It was probably one of her regulars.

"Welcome," she said, not raising her face from the chapter "_Everyone Has Baggage."_

"Um, you dropped your gloves." A voice she didn't recognize stated, rather awkwardly, but the voice was a very cheery one.

She looked up from her book as she met the eyes and smile of a slightly familiar face with a greenish tint to his hair.

**AND DONE! YAY. Hopefully you guys like this chapter too! Review! Be awesome! DO IT!**


	3. Chapter 3: A Push in the Right Direction

**Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! I'm glad people like how Rachel (and to some extent Raven) are presented. All of these characters have "secrets" and as the chapters go on, I think you'll realize that too. People always have secrets- and everyone will be expanded on later. Oh well. I don't own anything and I thank the marvelous reviewers, the fantastic alerters, the incredible favoriters, and the greatest readers! **

**Chapter 3: A Push in the Right Direction**

Rachel just studied the guy with her eyebrows knitted together. At first, she didn't really recognize him. Something seemed oddly familiar about him… She took herself out of the unnamed protagonist's world, and went back to the real one.

As Rachel mentally re-did her day, she realized he was the one she had bumped into this morning. The green tint was kind of hard to miss.

She blinked in recognition, and then felt awkward. She sneered to herself mentally: _Nice job, Rachel. Study him a bit longer and make it ten times more obvious that you were checking him out. _

With the tiniest blush, she muttered a "Thank you."

She took the gloves from his hands, and put them on the checkout table. After that, she opened her mouth, but found nothing to say. She closed it, and mentally cursed her inability to associate with people. What was she to do now? Did she have to say something? Why was he just standing there? Was there something he wanted?

His eyes studied her back, and as they stared at each other, he suddenly broke the contact. With one look to the left, and one to the right, he smiled. "Sweet place you got. Mind if I take a look around?"

"Go ahead." Her voice sounded neutral to the stranger, but its pitch was slightly off. She again covered her face with the book, as if reading. But really, she wasn't paying much attention to the book- it was to shield her blush. _He's kinda cute. _

She didn't take him to be the "book reading" type. She thought a guy like him would only play videogames… Or, if he read, it would be comic books...

"Sweet! You got mangas back here!" He had already made his way to the back, near the stairs.

Rachel Roth softly giggled to herself. And then her eyebrows knitted. Rachel Roth doesn't _giggle._

With a snarl, she recalled Kitten giggling and snorting excessively in an annoying fashion on the bus and prayed to _dear God _that that was **not **what she just sounded like.

As she turned her mental attention back to the guy in her bookshop, the perfect stranger, she realized she didn't even know his name.

By now, she wasn't actually reading. When he went to look around, she read one or two words, but now she completely ignored the dark squiggles in the book and was using it as a shield: her thoughts were in the right corner where _he _was.

So absorbed in her thoughts, she didn't hear him come closer.

"Hey, I'd like to check these out." His voice was right in front of her, and as her face turned red, she took a precautionary three seconds before she put the book down.

As she did, she bent under the counter, for her laptop, giving her some more time to make the blush fade. When she whipped it up out of her bag and onto the counter, she realized that he picked nearly _all _of the new releases. With a raise of her eyebrow, she read bottom to top, with the barcode on the side, and finally moved to his smiling face.

"All of these?" It wasn't in a surprised tone, nor was it an inquiry. She knew perfectly well that he wanted all of them (people don't pick up books to checkout and just change their minds); it was just a question that bookshop people asked, like how cashiers would ask, "Is that all?"

With a toothy grin, he answered, "Yep."

Without another word, Rachel flipped the laptop open, and began typing the password, and then clicking on her desktop for the library database. Once there, she typed another password, _Dark Shoppe._

"Um…"

She held up a finger, telling him to wait.

Without looking up, she annunciated: "Name?" Her voice was cold, and slightly demanding.

"Garfield Mark Logan… But…"

Not even paying him the slightest attention, she typed his name in, opened one of the drawers in the checkout desk, retrieved the scanner, scanned the card, and then proceeded to scan all the mangas.

After she was done, she looked at him blankly as his mouth was wide open.

"Hand." She demanded.

In utter awe, he responded by extending his arm and opening his hand.

She put the card in his hand, and studying (for a millisecond, mind you) how his thumbs were muscled, his fingernails cut, and the various lines on his hand that could be attributed to the dehydration of the skin from the cold or because he was working. She snapped out of it, thinking, _you are NOT going to study some guy's hand you'll never see again, what is WRONG with you? Of course his hand is bigger; he's a g-u-y. Are you stupid or something, Rachel? _

"Guard it with your life, your mangas are due in two weeks." Her tone was cold and biting, but he didn't seem to mind. She cursed herself internally for not being more _social. _But, people _scared _her. The way you could invest and be stabbed in the back, the way… She remembered an early memory of that _one _time she had "friends."

They used her.

They _used her. _

_They used her. _

Her logic was screaming, and alarms were going off everywhere in her head. It was better to depend on oneself, to not trust, and only give the trust to people… Er, per_son_ who deserved it…. Herself.

Rachel was shutting down. The cold look never left her face, so Garfield would never see what was going on. He couldn't _sense _it. She was _that _good. Years of practice since _that time… _The memories were slapping her in the face. The memories she worked so hard to bury, the memories that took years of dreaming and drowning to get rid of were brought up by _one _encounter with someone? _Who was this person to do that to her?_

Before she could snarl one last time and bury herself in the book, he blinked, as if gathering himself. "Amazing! That was so fast!"

Her right eyebrow went up in amusement. He was truly fascinating, like a puppy. "What?" And yet, she still didn't catch his train of logic.

"You were like, boom! Whoosh! Beep! Beeep! BEEP!"

Rachel snorted, holding back a small laugh. Her right lip curled up a bit, but… _Since when do people make her laugh? Or smile, even?_

But right before she could show a true smile, or have an internal monologue and find a reason why she was so amused, the door slammed open, and the bell, instead of its normal ring, it was more like, _di-ING! _As it slammed onto the wall, probably making property damage- Rachel could only groan. She smelled the expensive bills already.

_Who is the asshole…_

Before she could finish her thought, Xavier Redd (who was obviously beaten) powered through the door.

As soon as she saw who it was, all thoughts of happiness, all feelings of amusement were gone. Extinguished. Made to disappear by the dickhead extraordinaire- the mayor of Manwhorerovia.

"Rachel Roth…" He snarled.

"Sorry, we're closed." The ice in her voice was back, not even hesitating, not even blinking.

"_He_'s here." Xavier pointed his index finger at Garfield.

"He was just leaving." Rachel answered for him. She wasn't going to take this; she wasn't going to feel _victimized _on her own turf.

"Your sign says you're open." His logic hissed.

"Closing early. Gotta study." Rachel answered. Garfield was being completely and utterly ignored, but he watched, ready to jump in at any moment.

"You're not getting away, _Rache." _He came closer.

He wasn't going to bully her, because she wouldn't let him. She could and would defend herself without any help. She'd done so for years. "It's Rach_el." _

"Whatever, emo girl." He leaned on the bookcase. "You know what bugs me? You're the only girl I haven't slept with…"

Before he could continue, Rachel shot him down. "Kori Anders hasn't slept with you."

"You know Kori?" Gar asked, slightly confused.

But he was ignored, the air tense, the bookshop, so silent before, was tingling with the air of a battlefield, a coliseum, the man versus the lioness. "How do you know that?" He barred his teeth at the lioness, knowing she had called his bluff, his fake.

"I have my ways. Plus, Richard Grayson's her boyfriend now." She had heard rumors, of course. She dodged his question, and had protected Kori Anders, university babe and cheerleader. She didn't like X to get his hands on her. Kori seemed so _pure, _so nice. She didn't want anything to happen to her. Putting her and Grayson, Captain of MMA club seemed fitting.

He winced, as if her verbal attack had had physical consequences. "Rubbing salt in my wound as always…"

But Rachel didn't let him finish. She wouldn't. She would continue her attacks, mauling the gladiator before he had time to recover. "Bea hasn't slept with you, either. Neither has Jessi."

Bea was the dancing team's captain and was in a relationship with Victor Stone, quarterback, and, as Rachel once heard, secret captain of the robotics team. Sure, they didn't notice her when they were talking, because she was wallpaper, she was drywall, and she was nothing. But she had heard them talking anyway. Bea would never sleep with X, anyway- he was on the lower end of the food chain, way lower than her. She was at the top, he at the "scumbag/manwhore" level. And there was no way Victor Stone would let it happen- he was too dominating, too strong, and too territorial.

Jessi was the rebel girl at the head of the Dark Arts club, where they studied gothic literature, hexes, and the like- plus, she was a girl who didn't like getting the same treatment as other girls. Independent, sarcastic, and dark diva Jessi had the boys slobbering over their uniforms, going out with boys with intellect and class. She and Rachel were a lot alike, even if they had never spoken before.

"How…" X stepped closer, his façade crumbling.

"I have _standards, _Xavier. Just because I'm a loner and have no friends doesn't mean I don't know what's going on, and I wouldn't want to go out with you anyway." She paused, letting her bite maul his confidence to pieces. "Get out of my bookshop- or I'll count to three and pull the alarm."

Rachel's eyes never left X's, but if they had, she would have noticed Garfield's stance. He was ready to jump in, ready to defend and attack, but was waiting for the moment. Like a well trained animal, the guy was waiting for the attack to commence.

"That doesn't…" He stepped closer now, in the range of Garfield. But his eyes never left Rachel's. He was done, they all knew it, but he was going for the kill anyway.

Garfield didn't have the chance to jump in, because Rachel handled it herself. "You know where the closest police station is? On the corner of this street- so I suggest you _**get out**_."

It was true. The police station was right on the end of the block, and X knew it. "One…" She began.

He snarled, but his armor didn't hold up- he had been mauled by the lioness. "You win this one, Rachel Roth. But next time…"

"Two."

And he was gone, the door slamming behind him, the bell _ding-dinging _behind him. They could see his retreating figure, and then it molded to the crowd.

The challenge hung in the air, but Rachel, once he was gone, let out a breath of relief. She forced her shoulders to relax, and her knees began to shake. One minute, she was so firm, and the next she was falling apart, _scared. _She finally remembered Garfield was there.

Her ears picked up a very low murmur, "And stay out,"

She met his eyes.

"That was really brave, Rachel."

She rolled her eyes. Dealing with bullies? She'd done _that _her entire life. She didn't need help- it was regular, it was normal, it was the status quo of her life. _If_ people saw her, they'd tease her for being a famous loner. She had to put her cloak in her bag for confidence, for the confidence of walking straight into a school where no one knew her or liked her, for her elegant poise, for everything. She had to channel _Raven. _She had to channel her aura of "I-don't-give-one-fuck-about-your-opinions" to protect herself. When she was in school, she didn't speak. She never participated in class, yet she got the highest grades. The teachers had sometimes put her on the spot, but she had always typed or wrote down the answer with a big, black font or sharpie. Most people at Gotham U thought she was mute.

"Not really."

But what really bugged her was that she had said more words to this guy than she had for an entire semester at Gotham U. And that was slightly _scary. _She had kind of forgotten how her own voice had sounded.

He seemed to still believe what she did was brave, but he dropped it, "But, how did you know about Richard and Kori?"

He shoved the card in his pocket, and was looking at her intently, waiting for an answer.

"I heard." That part was true. In that Gotham, it was terribly big, but Rachel had a talent for hearing everyone's secrets- and being in the right place at the right time. Well, except for this morning. But, she had heard Kori and her girl posse (being Bea and Jessi) talk about boys. Kori was so wonderfully social, so wonderfully perfect, that sometimes… Sometimes, mind you, Rachel would wish she had the courage to go and talk to her. She was the center of attention, the epitome of niceness and naïveté, but it was never strange to see her with Bea and Jessi. They somehow fit together, those three. Most people didn't get it, but Rachel did. In all her experience with people watching, she saw how they complemented each other, how they _fit, _how they could be friends and get angry and be sad and be joyful together. They always breezed past her, never seeing her. But Rachel always saw _them. _

And in that particular conversation she had overheard, it had been about Grayson. It had been on the way to the Arts department.

"_But how do I tell Richard about the feelings?"She was holding her books close to her chest, and blushing like a tomato._

"_Girl, I bet Rich already _knows. _He's just playing dumb- or he hasn't got the guts to tell you." Bea was comforting and wise, with a slight twitch of attitude._

"_If anything, I'm sure he likes you too, Kor. He's just a guy- boneless and waiting for the right moment that will never come."Jessi twirled her pink hair at this moment._

"_Rich is kinda dense when it comes to his feelings though," Bea pointed out the obvious, the thing that everyone knew but couldn't vocalize._

"_Shh! Bea, don't make this worse."Jessi smacked her friend._

"_WHAT?! ME, MAKE IT WORSE?! IF ANYTHING…" Bea's voice rose louder until it was a scream and, as Rachel snorted, so full of outrage._

"_Friends, please. I will not tell Richard about the feelings because I want to be the 'friends' with him a little longer." They continued speaking, but they were out of her earshot._

But it seemed that Kori had the same problem as she did. Sometimes courage came in little bursts but would never amount to anything.

"But they aren't going out." Garfield's eyebrows were pressed together, making cresses in his forehead.

She shrugged. She knew that Kori wanted to, though. "So I made up a little white lie. It isn't going to hurt anyone."

"You know I'm friends with them, right?"

Rachel almost dropped her book. He was friends with _THE_ Richard and Kori?

Wait a second…

She looked him over, once again, in surprise.

_Garfield Mark Logan… _She felt like she could smack herself. _**Of course. **_

The super popular, funny, innocent ladies man of the Science Department? The guy who won countless awards with animal gene-splicing, and the famous veterinarian?

_**Great. **_

"Wanna meet 'em?" He asked, toothy grin intact. It seemed to be that he was friends with them, but at this moment, he seemed to be _using _them. Using them to get in her good graces- and that made Rachel cool off- she wasn't going to appreciate or like that.

"As you can probably tell, I'm not a great people person." She shot him down with great precision, blaming herself instead of his word choice. She turned her back and organized the newly released _Stephen King _and _James Patterson _and _Nora Roberts _books that had just came in.

Her fingers accidentally touched the special edition of her trilogy, with some of the commentary. She immediately felt to take her fingers away, but since _he _was here, she had to act normal. So, she brushed it, moved it, and tried to contain her fluttering feeling of _her secret book, that she had written, and no one knew. _

"You'd like them!" He seemed outraged that his tactic didn't work, but he made it seem as though he wanted her to meet him. Or was that thought her own cynicism? She didn't know.

"M-hm, just like you like meat." Her back didn't turn once, but she could practically feel him flinch. She had heard how he was a famous vegan.

"You know," she could hear him pout, "You know so much about my friends and me, but I don't know anything about you."

Rachel inwardly sneered, and she thought a sarcastic, _who DOESN'T know about you and your friends? _Was it frustration that he didn't know what she liked, was it that he actually wanted to be friends, was it? Rachel couldn't hope for that. She couldn't. False safety was everywhere. She was only safe when she was by herself. She had to protect herself. _She had to protect herself from people. _"And I'd like to keep it that way. I don't associate with the Titans."

The Titans- his group of friends, his popular crowd, bound to hurt and betray anyone in their path. Rachel could see it- populars had been that way since the beginning of time. She wasn't going to be drawn out. She wasn't going to let herself become another butt of a joke, another false friendship, another anything. _Protect yourself. Protect your emotions. _Those were the only thoughts in her head.

"You don't seem to '_associate' _with anyone." His voice was blunt, irritated.

Now he was getting seriously annoying. She whipped around, sending him he "Raven" glare. She saw him cower- she had sent him the message that he had gone too far, and he had received it. "Look, rich boy. I'm not in the mood to meet your little friends, okay? Leave me alone."

Usually, people just stopped there, and Rachel appreciated it.

But it seemed as though he wasn't done. "But how about…"

"How about you get out of my shop." It was curt, blunt, icy and freezing. She was defending her emotions. This was _her _turf. She could and would win against the threat of him and his false friendships.

"The books…" He hadn't moved them from the counter, and he pointed to them, his voice like a puppy's whine.

Rachel would not be swayed. "Come back in two weeks and return them outside. I don't really feel like seeing your face."

_Ouch. _She could practically feel his thought there, and inwardly sneered, _apply ice to burned area._

"Look, if it was what I said before, I didn't mean-

"Save it, water boy." It was well known throughout the school that he had tried for the football team, but had failed miserably. Because the school didn't want the outside world to look upon them badly, they had made him the water boy.

When she looked into his eyes, she knew she had done something wrong. She had gone too far.

But there was no going back now. She had driven him away; she had succeeded in protecting herself. But why was there this bitter feeling that came with it? She was never good with people, and wasn't too good at apologizing either. She had instantly regretted her comment when she saw the hurt in his eyes. _He didn't deserve that. Yes he did. No. Yes. No._

She wasn't going to get hurt, not anymore.

But he didn't storm out. He didn't leave.

"You heard what I said, green hair."

Then, for some unknown reason, he brightened. "You really think so?"

"…?" Rachel didn't say anything, but she was confused. Not visibly confused, but internally so. What was his deal? He was so weird.

"Victor called me grass stain!"

With no amusement, with no ice, but just in a neutral voice, "It clearly has a green tint."

"Right?!" He was excited, happy flowers practically dancing around him.

_Weird. _

Before she could get her bearings in this conversation, he asked, "I don't think I've seen you before. Where do you go to school?"

_Of course you haven't seen me before. _It was said in her head with sarcasm, and yet she felt slightly sad when she thought it.

But she didn't invest where she knew the market would bottom. "Gotham U."

"Wow!"

She cut off his next thought; the one she knew was coming. "Before you say 'me too!' I know."

There was a silence. Had she said something wrong? _Azar, this interacting is nerve racking. _

"You really say it how it is, don't you?" She almost exhaled. So he was thinking. His train of thought seemed to run at weird hours and stop at undisclosed stations. It was hard to keep up.

So instead of answering, she stared on. _Let him come up with what that meant._

"I'm going to bring them over here tomorrow. You have the selection I think they'll like." He nodded, as if agreeing for her. He picked up the books, and satisfied, began to leave.

Rachel felt utterly powerless. "Listen, Garfield…" _Don't come to my shop. _

"Call me Gar." He had turned; he had acknowledged her voice- a voice that people so little noticed. He had acknowledged her, and let her call him by _nickname. _

Rachel had never called anyone by nickname before. She never made any nicknames for people, she never… She didn't have the heart to tell him to keep the books.

With a sigh of defeat, "Gar… This isn't a playhouse. It's a place of reading." She would not have it if they disturbed her regulars, or if they turned this place into a _hangout, _Azar forbid.

He had heard, and acknowledged her words with balancing the books in one hand, and put his hand to the air, directed at her. "Don't worry!" She could hear the smile in his voice…

And couldn't help feel for a millisecond that he was kind of cool- but then he was bringing his _friends _to _her bookshop. _

This was going to be awful.

And Rachel groaned.

**Done! Sorry it took so long! Busy with schoolwork, and I also got sick this weekend. Happy Yom Kippur to the Jews out there, and good luck with the rest of the fast!**


End file.
